


Make Me Melt

by ToriCeratops



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Aftercare, Dom!Eggsy, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Gentle Dom, Light Bondage, M/M, Praise Kink, Rimming, Sensuality, Sex Toys, Subspace, Wax Play, breath play, sub!Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 22:12:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3953662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToriCeratops/pseuds/ToriCeratops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the world gets heavy, and your shoulders feel like they may crumple at any moment, sometimes it takes someone you trust with everything you are to hold you up and hold you together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Me Melt

**Author's Note:**

> Two weeks ago I had a one word prompt night that evolved into several people discussing D/s Hartwin, a call for Gentle!Dom Eggsy, and some wax play. So here we go.
> 
> NOTE: This fic contains wax play between two men who have been in a relationship for a long time and know each others limits inside and out. Wax is very fun and very sensual but can be _very_ dangerous if you don't have the right candles or the right information. The candle Harry and Eggsy use is actually one that is more massage oil than wax which means you still get the heat, a really good massage, and Bonus! Easy clean up. So much easier than actual wax... trust me, I know.

The sound of Eggsy humming off-key and the rich smell of coffee pulls Harry downstairs, finishing off the knot on his tie as he goes.  He’s going over his to-do list in his head for the fifth time since Eggsy had pushed him out of bed to go shower in time to actually get his day started in something resembling ‘punctual’.  When Harry makes it to the bottom, he turns and blinks, hands hovering over his tie and list forgotten.

Eggsy is standing in front of the stove in only his dark red boxer briefs and an apron, humming and wiggling his hips to his own poor rhythm.  The fabric of his underwear clings to the tight curve of his arse and lines the bulge of his upper thighs in ways that are probably sinful.  Despite being together nearly five years, Harry still goes a bit slack jawed and his mouth waters at the sight.  “Unless you are planning on going into work like this…”  Harry comes up behind Eggsy and presses himself against his back, wrapping his arms around his lover.  “I’m afraid you will be late.”

When he presses open mouthed, hungry kisses to his neck, Eggsy hums.  “Good thing I’m not goin’ in today, yeah?”

Harry pauses, lips hovering over the hard tendon at the bottom of Eggsy’s neck.  “Who approved that?”  He lets his hands wander, slipping beneath the apron to glide along Eggsy’s bare skin.

“Uh, you did.”  He shifts a little against Harry and turns off the stove. “A month ago.  Harry, it’s Daisy’s birthday, did you forget?”

A groan of regret rolls through Harry’s chest as he stills and drops his head against Eggsy’s shoulder.  “Christ.  That may have happened.”  He’s been forgetting personal things here and there more often than he’d like to admit the last month or so.  Not for any mental deficiencies, but rather due to the sheer amount of work Kingsman has been doing.  He’s got his fingers in a dozen pots and still only just ten fingers.

But Eggsy laughs and wiggles against him, purposely pushing the cleft of his arse back against Harry’s groin.  “Don’t worry, love.  You have no obligations till this weekend.  And I’ve checked and double checked with Amanda to keep your calendar open.”

Harry rocks his hips forward and smirks against Eggsy’s skin, trying to keep his mind focused despite the physical pleasure sparking through him, starting to fill his cock.  He really doesn’t have the time to start anything.

That doesn’t stop him.

“What on earth would I ever do without you?”

He can feel Eggsy’s pulse quicken and moves his hands again, fingers teasing just under the elastic.  “Best guess?  You’d starve to death, then be late to your own fuckin’ funeral.”

“Ha. Ha.”  He responds in a dry tone just as he reaches lower and presses his hand against the cloth covering Eggsy’s length.  It gets him the reaction he’s after, a hitch in Eggsy’s breath which momentarily tenses all the muscles in his neck and shoulders.

“You really should eat some breakfast and get to work.”  His protests are getting weaker as he visibly tries to hold himself still.  He’s trying valiantly not to fall to Harry’s whims.

“Not hungry.”  Harry remarks, biting lightly just below Eggsy’s ear.

“Then go to work.  Ah – _Harry_!”  Eggsy nearly shouts, entire body shuddering against Harry under his ministrations, which is just delicious.

“But I am _hungry_.”  He nearly growls with it, his own body reacting in spades to the way Eggsy is responding to his touch.

Without warning Eggsy spins in his arms and drags Harry in for a kiss by his tie.  He tastes of overly sweet coffee and its open mouthed and filthy but over far too fast.  “Go. To. Work.”  Eggsy repeats without letting go of his tie.  “Get the day over with, come home for dinner and then you can spend all night making me scream, yeah?”  He reaches up on his toes to nip Harry’s ear, not helping _at all._  “You can tie me up all nice and pretty and fuck me so hard neither of us can walk tomorrow.”

Groaning again, Harry grips Eggsy’s arse, hard.  “You aren’t helping your case.  You know this, correct?”

“And you have a meeting with the prime minister and head of MI6 in less than an hour.”  

That gives him pause, stills his hands and loosens his grip.  “They can wait.”  He tries with no real conviction behind it.

“Harry.  Hart.  You are not going to make the two most powerful women in this country wait on your sorry arse.”  To punctuate his argument, Eggsy tightens Harry’s tie just enough to notice then steps away completely, leaving Harry cold in his absence.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, bemoaning the fact that he’s about to have to leave the house with a half tent in his trousers.  At least it’s still dark out for the moment.  When he’s still standing there a minute later, from the other side of the kitchen Eggsy sing-songs.  “You are la-ate.”  Then tosses Harry an apple.

Catching the fruit gets him in motion again and Harry finally makes his way towards the door.

“If you recall, darling,” he calls back as he opens the latch, “I was _spectacularly_ late to my own funeral.”

His laughter feels good after Eggsy shouts from the kitchen.  “I know!  ‘S why I said it!”

 

 

The pure joy that comes from being with Eggsy is, unfortunately, but a momentary reprieve in the current insanity of Harry’s life.  Before he even makes it to the shop those few stolen moments are all but gone, replaced with lists and agendas, missions he needs to be updated on and agents briefed and debriefed.

He manages to be an entire five minutes early for his first – and longest – meeting of the morning.

And it’s the only thing that goes right all bloody day.

His first meeting quickly devolves into the politest dick measuring contest he’s ever participated in.  Underhanded rude comments are batted around the room like a beach ball and Harry counts his lucky stars that when measured up he manages to at least feel like he’s come in second and not fourth out of three.  Which is, much to his amusement, what the prime minister looks like she feels when they adjourn.  Baxter, on the other hand, manages to walk out with everything she had walked in there looking for, if not a little more.  Harry has to commend her for it.  Fear her, a little, but commend her none-the-less.

Not five minutes after the door shuts behind them, Harry’s phone rings signaling his next ordeal.  A conference call with the U.S. Vice President – who wants to hire them but is refusing full disclosure on his part – begins as a shouting match before Harry can even say good day.  It is such a vast difference from his first meeting that he gets whiplash.  Of course, he’s able to get what he needs because he hates the bastard and purposely learned all of his weak spots the day he took office.  Harry knows a lot of people’s Achilles heel, actually.  It gets him pretty far most of the time.

Lunch is supposed to follow his call but he manages to spend the entire time (and then some) attempting to catch up on reports and paperwork.  The mountain is nearly three weeks behind and after nearly two hours he swears it actually looks bigger.

Merlin eventually shows up to remind him he was supposed to be starting mission briefs half an hour ago and almost forcibly drags him away from his desk.  Percival takes nearly no time at all but he, Merlin, Ector and Tristan sit discussing the complications the two agents will face for over three hours.

Barely five minutes after he was supposed to leave for home, Eggsy shows up in his office and plops a bag of Chinese take away on his desk.  Harry looks up from the open file in front of him, startled.

“I’m not even late yet.”

“Amanda rang.  Said she had a sinkin’ suspicion you was gonna try pullin’ another all-nighter.”  He sits himself on the edge of the desk, just next to Harry and close enough Harry can rest his head on his knee.

Which he does immediately.  “I am sorry, darling.  But I must get this done.  At least some of it.”  He’s tired and wants to go home, but his sense of duty and responsibility are still too strong for the moment.

Eggsy runs a hand through Harry’s hair.  “And I ain’t here to drag you away.”  He nudges the food closer.  “Just to beg you to eat and see if I can do anythin’ to help.”

Harry looks up at that, a small smile on his face reserved just for Eggsy.  The one he couldn’t stop if he tried whenever he is reminded of just how much he loves him and why.  “You’re already doing it.”

With a finger just below Harry’s chin Eggsy leans down and guides him into a long, lingering kiss.  “I love you.”  Harry says when they part.

“Love you, too.  Now eat sumfin.”

When Harry opens the bag and gets a good whiff his stomach growls – loudly.  “I bet you didn’t even eat lunch, did ya?”  Eggsy accuses.

Harry avoids eye contact.  “That may be an accurate assumption.”  And ignores the frustrated sigh in response.

Eggsy stays until he’s satisfied with how much Harry eats then gets up to return home, not going until he gets a promise from Harry that he will come back sometime before the sun rises again.  The best Harry can do is a promise to try which is, eventually, good enough.

Because the world conspires against him at every available opportunity, sometime between eight and nine he gets a code red from mission control and is bolting from his office in a matter of seconds.  In the hall he catches up with Merlin who gives him a quick brief on what has happened.

Lancelot had bad intel and it’s caused her cover to be completely blown.  On top of that, the bomb she’s there to defuse is unlike anything any of them have seen before.

The only thing familiar about it is that it is remote activated –

But they have no idea where the remote is.

Dozens of scans and far too many minutes arguing about it later and they finally feel confident enough to have her start working.  Every move Harry has her make is carefully calculated, backed up by not only their phenomenal computer systems but also Bors and Gareth, two of the best bomb experts Harry has ever known.  Still, after every command he holds his breath.

He has no idea how much time has passed when she tugs on one last connection and every single light on the device goes dead.  Her sigh of relief quickly dissolves into a single sob.

“That’s my girl.”  Merlin’s shoulders collapse and he drops forward, hands braced against the desk in relief.  Bors and Gareth both relax as well, looking like they are taking their first full breath in minutes.

But Harry remains focused, focused on the screen, paying close attention to every detail.  “Grab the triggering mechanism and get out of there now, Lancelot.  Your still have hostiles in the area.”

She doesn’t have to be told twice, snatching the small box of gears and wires and bolting.  “I swear to god,” she says before ducking into the next room to avoid a group crossing at the other end of the hall, “The next time you need….”

A flash makes them all wince and cover their eyes.

Her feed goes dark.

Roxy screams.

“LANCELOT!”

The sounds of explosions and chaos filter through their speakers, all four men standing on the edge waiting for something.

Anything.

And then she coughs.

“Christ.”  Harry takes two seconds to breathe again then takes complete control.  “Bors, get the feed switched to infrared. Gareth, pull up our schematics of the building.  Lancelot, can you hear me?”

“Yes, but,”  She coughs several times, each subsequent one sounding wetter and torn.  Her voice already sounds forced.  “I’m fine except I can’t see.”

“Smoke or the flash?”

“Both.”  Her voice nearly gives out on that one word alone just as the infrared comes to life.

“Lancelot, we are officially on taps to answer.  Cover your mouth.  Save your voice.”   _And your lungs_.  Harry keeps his tone as calm as he can physically manage given their current state of distress.  Whether Roxy makes it out or not is based entirely on what they do in that room in the next few minutes and it is that that keeps him focused and his voice level.  “One for yes.  Two for no.  Understood?”

The sound of one tap against her ear piece thuds in the room and Harry continues.  “You don’t have any fire near you.  Find a wall, face it and press both hands against it.”  She does so quickly and then taps once.  The blueprints come to life on another screen and Harry breathes a tiny bit easier.  “Okay, Lancelot.  That is officially north as far as we are concerned from here on out.  Understood?”

One tap.

“Perfect.  Let’s figure out where you are and get you home.”

Fifteen minutes feels like fifteen days and every time they think they have found a way out something is in their way.  Fire, debris, people shooting at her.  Dedicated pricks the lot of them, shooting at someone while the building burns down around them.

There’s a strange heat signature building a few feet ahead of her and they all intend to guide her around it.  But almost too late Harry checks her location against the blueprints again.

“ROXY!  GROUND!”

Harry watches their view instantly change to that of the relatively cooler temperature of the tile just as another explosion rocks through the speakers followed by the sound of shattered glass falling to the ground.

“Lancelot!  Are you still with us?”

Silence stretches on for far too long, Harry’s own pulse the only thing he can hear.  All four men stare up at the screen, holding their breath.

 _Tap_.

 

 

Harry doesn’t leave until Roxy is tucked away in the nearest safe house, waiting for an extraction, and resting.

Healing.

At one a.m., he finally heads for home.

By two he’s lounging in his chair in the sitting room in the dark, glass of scotch in his hand and doubts his mind will ever shut the hell up.  He’s exhausted but no where near ready to try and fool himself that he’s ready for sleep.

Light floods the room from the hall behind him and he tries not to wince.  But he doesn’t have much left in him to pull it off.

“Harry?”  Eggsy’s sleep cracked voice is like a balm, but it’s not enough.  “How long have you been home?”  he comes around to stand in front of Harry, holding his robe closed and looking concerned.

Harry takes a sip of his drink and frowns.  It’s not as good as usual for some reason.  “Not long.”  He shrugs.

“Jesus _Christ_ , Harry.”  In front of him Eggsy drops to his knees, looking up at Harry with worry swimming in his eyes.  “Are you alright?”  He strokes Harry’s cheek but he barely feels it.

“Of course I am.”  It’s an automatic response, even if it’s shaken, from years of keeping literally everything bottled up to handle on his own.

Eggsy responds, of course, and Harry would do anything to focus on his voice, to hear his words, to know what he’s saying.  But in that moment, nothing can drown out the noise terrorizing his mind; explosions, shouting, screams, shattered glass, arguments that mean absolutely nothing.

But then movement catches his eyes and Eggsy is standing, holding out his hand.  “Harry.”  He breaks through.

“Harry, love.  Let me take you to bed.”

His attention snaps up, breath caught in his throat.

Eggsy hadn’t said ‘let’s go to bed’ or ‘you should sleep’ or even, ‘come to bed’.

No.

_Let me take you to bed._

It’s a question.  Their question.

If he says no they will go to bed anyway and Harry will pretend that he is able to rest.

But if he says yes…

If he says yes it will be the last question he has to answer, the last decision he has to make, for as long as Eggsy desires.  His hand is shaking when he takes the one offered to him, voice nearly coming out as a choked off sob.

Harry answers.

“Please.”

He lifts himself to his feet and into Eggsy’s waiting arms.  Eggsy who loves him, who holds him so carefully by his face and kisses him in such a way that Harry remembers how to breathe again.  He chases Eggsy’s lips when he pulls away but he’s met with a single finger pressed against his own.

“You are going to go upstairs and shower.  Clean the day from your skin head to toe, takin’ as long as you need.”  He has his palm flat against Harry’s face, thumb stroking his cheek.  “Tell me if you understand.”

All Harry can manage in his state is a small nod but it gets a smile from Eggsy.  “That’s my love.”  He says quietly.  Eggsy kisses him again, slow and sweet and Harry is momentarily lost to it, to the pull of his affection.  “Go on.  I’ll be waiting for you in the bedroom when you finish.”

So Harry goes, mind still racing but with less pressure to find any answers right this second.  He is meticulous stripping from his clothes as always, hanging his suit to be taken to the cleaners and being sure to put the rest in the basket.  His focus on these actions is all that keeps the thoughts from overwhelming him.  In the shower he turns the temperature high enough to be nearly scalding and for a long time stands under the spray, letting the water beat into his skin over and over, giving a strange rhythm to the noise in his head.  Eventually Eggsy’s words slip through the static, forcing their way to the front to remind Harry what he’s there for.  He lathers himself and scrubs every inch until he feels raw from it.

By the time he’s done and dry, Harry isn’t any more relaxed than before, but he’s clean, skin sensitive to the cool air.

In their room Eggsy has a small collection of items on the nightstand and has lit several candles that together glow just enough to see by.  Eggsy is already out of his underwear and the flickering light of the flames casts a dance of shadows over the rise and fall of his muscles.  It causes him to look even more deeply cut than he already is.  Harry wants nothing more than to touch, to map every inch with his fingers and his lips.  When he closes the distance between them Eggsy smiles and allows him to bend in for a deep kiss, indulging Harry’s desire to simply feel Eggsy’s body against his for a moment.  Their lips glide together in a familiar rhythm, tongues sliding against teeth, seeking the taste of each other that they both thrive on.

Eggsy breaks the kiss, trailing a line of fluttering kisses down Harry’s jaw and throat that sends the first real wave of desire through Harry’s body.  “I’m going to take care of you, Harry.”  He begins as he gently guides Harry’s hands away from his own body.  “But starting now, no touching unless I say so.  Not yourself and certainly not me.”  When Harry nods Eggsy’s appreciative smile gets a little wider, brightening his eyes.  The sight turns down some of the noise in his head and Harry manages a weary smile.

Eggsy reaches up and presses a light kiss to the corner of Harry’s upturned lips.  “So good.  Lay out on the bed, my love.  On your front, hands above your head in the pillows” Normally Harry would make a remark, a comment guessing as to Eggsy’s intentions but tonight, he has nothing.  No words of his own he can lay claim to.  By the time he’s laid out as told, over the fresh clean sheet Eggsy has covered the bed with, body stretched out, Eggsy seems to have noticed.  After straddling Harry’s hips and leaning low, he kisses Harry’s shoulder, his spine and up to the base of his skull.

“Harry?”  His voice is shaken with concern, though his hands are still steady and confident wherever they are touching him.

Harry just shakes his head.  “Please.”  He repeats.

Everything pauses for a moment as Eggsy hesitates at Harry’s quiet plea.

But then he rests his head on Harry’s shoulder and with a long, hot breath at the back of his neck assures him again, “Alrigh’.  I love you Harry.  And I’ve got you.”

And Harry knows.  Feels his chest loosen and the first feelings of freedom begin to worm their way in.  He gives everything to Eggsy, to the man who already owns his heart.  The only one he trusts with everything he has and is.  Harry gives every ounce of control to him and Eggsy tends to it as lovingly as possible.

Goose flesh prickles his skin when the warmth of Eggsy’s chest leaves Harry’s back and he holds back a huff of disappointment.

There’s the sound of Eggsy blowing something, and then the soft smell of smoke.

“Harry.”  Eggsy’s voice is steady and commanding again.  “Take a deep breath and hold it.”  He settles down so that his mostly soft cock is resting just as the top of Harry’s arse.  Perfectly placed so that as he hardens and fills Harry will feel every moment of it.

He takes a deep breath, and nods.

After a silent moment something hot splashes down over the muscles at his shoulder blades.  While his breath escapes in soft whine, Harry’s body jerks.  The quick sting of it dulls almost instantly into a strong heat that spreads slowly outward.  “Good, baby.  That’s exactly what I wanted to see.”  Eggsy repeats the action on his other shoulder, getting the same reaction.  His body tenses then lets go, falling back down just in time for the next.  “Nothing outside of this room matters, Harry.  No jobs.”

Another drop.

“No shop.”

The next one lands at the center of his back and his hands clench tightly in the pillow above his head.

“No missions.”

Each subsequent splash of the oily wax on his skin has his body pulled taught like the last, but the come down every time is greater, more potent.  “By the time I let you come the only thing you will be capable of thinkin’ of is me and the way I make you feel.  My hands.  My mouth.”  A long line is drizzled from his shoulders to the small of his back and Harry’s entire body rolls in response, his breath caught in his throat and hips rocking upwards.  He catches the hardening length of Eggsy’s prick which gets pressed even harder back against him as they both let out quiet sounds of pleasure.  “My cock…”

“Eggsy…”  The heat that had begun to seep through his flesh slowly starts to dissipate when Eggsy leans back for the briefest of moments.

But when he returns he presses the heel of both hands on either side of the base of Harry’s spine, slipping through what is essentially warmed up massage oil at this point and pushing outward, hard.  His touch forces the heat not just through his skin but to his muscles, to his very bones.  He doesn’t stop there, and he doesn’t say a word, the only sound in the room from their skin gliding together and the occasional moan that Harry is entirely incapable of biting back.

Eggsy’s hands move in a harsh dance, working out the tension in long sweeping motions with the flat of his palms, repetitive rhythm of the tips of his fingers, slow, deep circles from his thumbs in all the places that send curls of pleasure through Harry’s body.  They go out through his spine and down to his very toes.  The heat from every movement Eggsy makes converges in Harry’s core, finally bringing his desire fully to life.  He begins to slowly lift his hips in tandem with each of Eggsy’s strokes, getting an appreciative sigh from above him.

“Yes, Harry.  Just like that, baby.”

Harry responds to the encouragement far more than anything else so far.  Though he is acutely aware that without being in the state Eggsy has worked hard to put him in it wouldn’t have been nearly as intoxicating.  He repeats the motion, higher this time and feels a surge of pleasure when Eggsy moans from it.

The hands on his back press firmer, fingertips digging deeper and Eggsy leans low, the flutter of a kiss he gives the back of Harry’s neck a breath-stealing contrast the pressure from his hands.

“I know what you want, Harry.”  Harry’s prick throbs at the dark tone of his words.  What Harry _wants_ is his cock.  To be stretched out on it, taken and used until he feels Eggsy and _only_ Eggsy.  Eggsy runs his thumbs down Harry’s spine in a quick motion, shocking a gasp from Harry.  “I know what you want.  But more important, know what you need to get you to relax, to let go of everythin’ like I promised.”

He feels Eggsy slowly shift down, moving back and gently guiding Harry’s legs apart so he can settle between them.  The way Eggsy touches him, strong and sure but so perfectly tender, makes Harry feel as if he’s slowly melting like the candle that had been poured into his skin.

Eggsy takes a small, damp flannel, cool but in a way that feels good against his heated skin, and carefully wipes the oil from Harry’s back.  He’s slow, with a lighter touch against the spots that had been directly targeted by his earlier actions.  When he’s done Harry feels settled, grounded, like this is the only place he ever needs to be.

Strong hands trace the curve of Harry’s arse before trailing along his thighs.  Eggsy gently presses his palm to the muscle, guiding Harry to pull his legs up, to lift himself from the mattress until his hips are in the air and he is spread open, exposed.  His muscles jump and twitch with Eggsy’s touch, caressing his thighs, fingertips ghosting over sensitive flesh.

“Look at you.”  Eggsy’s words come out as a hot breath over Harry’s arse and a shiver rolls up his spine.  “So beautiful.  Doing exactly what I want without me even having to say a word.”

Without any further warning, Eggsy swipes a long, slow drag of his tongue over Harry’s entrance.  A shock of electricity sparks through his nerves, forcing a high and needy gasp from Harry’s lips.

Eggsy grips Harry tightly by his hips, grasping at his arse over and over, and teases him mercilessly.  The flutter of the tip of his tongue around the muscle followed by a harder, firmer press, then back to the lighter touch has Harry entirely unsure of how to respond.  He doesn’t know what will come next, how long he’ll be able to hold onto the deep pull of pleasure when Eggsy is nearly fucking him with his tongue alone before it’s instantly replaced with the light teases that light up every inch of his skin.  Each movement of Eggsy’s tongue is twisting the coil of pleasure further up his spine and Harry aches with how hard he has become.

Eggsy never touches Harry’s cock, leaves him gasping into his pillow, mouth hanging open to catch any breath he can and silently begging for any kind of friction.

“Fuck, Harry.”  Eggsy lets out another long breath and starts pressing filthy wet kisses to the flesh of his arse, immediately replacing his tongue with a slick finger and pressing in just to the knuckle.  He’s just as breathless as Harry is, biting down with every other kiss to send sharp sensations through Harry’s skin that quickly spread into nothing but pleasure.  “Next time, gonna make you come on my tongue.”  He adds a second finger and slowly starts opening him up, fucking him a little deeper with each thrust.

“Yes.”  Harry draws it out, lets the word linger on his tongue and his lips as his body relaxes and lets Eggsy in.  He’s slow, in no hurry to get anywhere and never stops kissing Harry wherever he can reach.

By the time he adds a third finger Harry swears he’s gripping his bed tight enough to tear the fabric.  “But I have other plans for you, baby.  Bigger plans.”  Eggsy never bends his knuckles or adds pressure anywhere else, simply letting his fingers slide in and out until they do so with ease, the motion keeping Harry’s body at a steadily held tension, enough to keep him on edge, but not enough to send him over.

“Eggsy.”  When Harry says his name, Eggsy moves a little faster.  “Please.”

This time he shifts his angle, presses his free hand down on the small of Harry’s back so his hips are canted even further up, deepening the thrust of Eggsy’s fingers.  “Hush,”  He says without any room for argument in his tone.

Eggsy picks up his pace, fucks him as deeply as he can on his fingers and at this angle it’s nothing but white hot.  Harry can feel it in his head, the dull buzz that comes as the blood rushes everywhere else, the way he can’t catch his breath and every muscle slowly starts to tense up.  He tries to say something, to make a coherent sound over his own needy noises. All he can manage is a weak, “I… I’m…”

“Don’t.”

Every inch of Harry’s body freezes in a suspended state of need, of the pressure that overwhelms him when he’s on the cusp of release, and even as Eggsy keeps moving, doesn’t relent, Harry doesn’t come.

“So _good,_ my love.”  Eggsy finally stills his hand and his voice changes drastically from the previous command, to one of excitement, adoration and no small amount of praise.  If he had still been moving when he said it, Harry wouldn’t have been able to stop himself.  As it is his hands start to tremble, overly-sensitive body jumping with each kiss Eggsy presses to his skin, on his arse, up his spine, slowly pulling his fingers free.  He lingers on Harry’s shoulders and then noses at him until he can give him a proper kiss.  It’s crooked and messy and bloody fucking perfect.

The heat coiled in his gut does not lessen.  It simply evens out, spreading back across his body with every moment Eggsy continues to kiss him.  He can feel the warmth radiating from Eggsy’s skin, keens at the way his cock slides slowly against the inside of Harry’s thigh.  Something firm presses lightly against his entrance and Harry jerks, breaking the kiss.

“Shh.  It’s alright Harry.  Just breathe deep, baby.”  The toy slips further in and it's easy at first, the slow stretch back to how he was before.  “Open up for me.  Relax.”  Eggsy’s words are gentle, whispered against his ear and more of a caress to Harry’s senses than any touch.  He trails kisses back down Harry’s back, helping him relax even more just in time to be stretched wider than before.  Harry takes in long, slow breaths and exhales heavily through the sting, knowing, _trusting_ , that Eggsy won’t go too fast, won’t push him past his limit and that he will make it all worth it.

“Fuck.  I wish you could see how fuckin’ gorgeous you look right now.”  He sounds almost awed and Harry keens at it.  The pressure has made his cock begin to soften, but Eggsy wraps a gentle hand around him, giving his length the lightest squeeze before running a single finger from root to tip and back again, over and over, touch feather-soft and distracting enough that Harry barely notices the final push around the widest part of the toy until it narrows down sharply and his body clenches around it, holding it in tight.  “That’s _perfect_ , Harry.”

God is it ever.  He’s loose and so relaxed, stretched open and full in a way that keeps a constant hum of pleasure throughout his body and sends small spikes of electricity everywhere every time he moves.

Eggsy grabs the toy by the base and slowly shifts it at various angles.  Harry makes small noises of surprise that evolve into a breathy laugh.

“Come on love, up.”  Eggsy backs away and he feels the bed shift.  “On your knees.”  For a moment Harry doesn’t move, breathing deeply and preparing himself for the sensation that will overcome him when he does anything to change the angle of his body.

He shakes with the way he slowly rolls back and picks himself up, pushing himself from the mattress to a kneeling position.  Harry knows he’s not supposed to touch himself, to do anything that could bring him close to the edge, but it’s so tempting, how easily it would be to wrap his long fingers around his own prick, to give himself a few strokes while rocking backwards….

“Hands behind your back.”

Harry sits up straight, taking in a steadying breath and slowly grabbing onto his own wrists at the small of his back.  

“You know why you need these, Harry.”  Soft, supple fabric is wrapped around each of Harry’s wrists and fastened into place.

“So I don’t touch.”

“So you don’t touch.  Because I’m about to feed you my cock.”  Harry feels a surge of anticipation.  It’s one of the only times he is incapable of restraining himself.  He twists his wrists in the soft, velcro restraints linked only by a simple clasp.  They had started with something stronger years before, but Eggsy had been too uncomfortable using them on Harry.  So velcro.  They’re cushioned and velvety on the inside, and have never left a single mark.

“Thank you.”  Harry says on a heavy exhale.

Once Eggsy is done fastening the cuffs he drags one hand slowly along the lines of Harry’s arm, over his shoulder and then pulls himself up so his chest is flush with Harry’s back.  “You are being extremely good, Harry.”  He starts teasing at his nipples, kissing Harry’s neck his breath an intoxicating heat against his skin.  Harry is held close, close enough he can feel Eggsy’s heartbeat hammering wildly, betraying his façade of calm and even voice.  It drives Harry mad.

“I like to reward you when you’re being good.”

There’s no warning, no sound, nothing to prepare Harry for the abrupt rush of pleasure from the toy that comes to life inside him.  It is a quick burst of low vibrations, barely on at all, but enough to send Harry’s back arching at a hard angle, gasping at the ecstasy that buzzes through every vein while Eggsy maintains a tight hold.

He is good.  He is very good for Eggsy, to Eggsy, and Eggsy always shows his appreciation. No matter what.  The thought sends his mind into a blissful state, one that feels suspended, hovering in a sort of bliss that he rarely finds himself in, and never without Eggsy.

For a short while Harry does everything he is told, whatever he is told, without thought, with little more than a tiny, euphoric grin on his lips.  Eggsy’s words never register, though he understands and obeys every command.  His voice, his touch, Eggsy’s very presence wraps around Harry in the most intimate embrace, holding him close, protected, cherished.

Loved.

“Harry.”

There’s a bitter tang on Harry’s tongue that rattles the haze in his mind.  He chases the taste, laps his tongue for more before it disappears.

“ _Christ_ , Harry!”

When he focuses, Harry finds himself kneeling on a pillow on the ground in front of Eggsy, suckling on the head of his lover’s cock with a teasing flutter of his tongue.  Harry locks gazes with him, taking him in just a little deeper before pulling off completely.

“I thought you said something about feeding me your cock.”  Harry smirks then keeps his eyes trained on Eggsy while he parts his lips just enough to take the head of Eggsy’s prick into his mouth, circling with his tongue.

And he feels another rush of excitement when Eggsy’s face breaks into a massive smile and he cups Harry’s face, stroking his cheek with his thumb.  “There you are.”  He almost sounds…

Relieved.

Eggsy steps back just enough to drop to his knee without hitting Harry on the way down and kisses him so deeply, so desperately that Harry loses himself in it instantly.  It’s sharp and greedy, Eggsy licking into his mouth and Harry returning the movement with a hungry moan.

There’s a tight hand in his hair and Eggsy in his space and under his tongue, sunk deeply in his skin and Harry never wants to ever let him go.

When Eggsy does pull back Harry chases him, whines when the hand curled in his hair tightens and he’s kept from moving any further forward.  It’s a sharp tug and a slow roll of warmth that emanates from it down his skin.  Eggsy smirks, the look of relief not quite gone from his eyes when he slowly lifts himself back to his feet, hand still firmly in Harry’s hair.

The moment he is close enough, Harry takes Eggsy back in his mouth, his own body trembling at the heaviness, at the taste of him and Eggsy is sucking in a sharp breath within seconds.  He lets Harry move, lets Harry take him for a moment, to press kisses along his base then back to take him in deep.  And Harry never stops watching the way Eggsy reacts, the way his chest starts to rise and fall with heavy movements, the way his tongue darts out and licks his kiss-swollen lips.

“Harry.”  Eggsy manages to bring the darkness back to his voice, the power and commanding tone.

Harry stops, and looks up, Eggsy’s cock just brushing his bottom lip while Harry’s mouth hangs open and waiting.

“Take a deep breath, Harry.”

Harry feels a groan deep in his chest as he drops his jaw down, and tilts his head back just as Eggsy starts properly fucking him.  With every thrust he bottoms out, cock slamming just this side of too hard against the back of Harry’s throat.  And Harry loves it.  Aches for it.  His own cock is screaming for some kind of friction, anything to find his building release.

With a jerk Eggsy stills, Harry’s lips pressed into the flesh beyond the length of his shaft, cock entirely cutting off Harry’s air.  Eggsy is shaking hard, face an open vision of pleasure staring down at Harry, on his knees, hands bound at the small of his back and mouth full and thoroughly used.  Eggsy’s jaw drops while he counts slowly, not looking away from Harry’s intense stare.

He will get to seven and pull back.  He always does.

Every time.

Harry lets him make it as far as six, his own head swimming with the lack of oxygen, dizzy, skin tingling, and makes a tight swallowing motion while rolling his tongue.

With a pinched curse Eggsy pulls back then there’s a sharp, tighter grip in Harry’s hair and a click.  The sudden rush of oxygen coupled with the gentle roll of vibrations against his prostate has Harry nearly coming.  Hard and uncontrollable.

The only thing that holds him back, that stamps off his release, is the sharp pain from the pull of his hair and the memory of Eggsy’s words that he was not allowed. “That’s my Harry,”  Eggsy purrs.  “That’s the attitude I wanted to see tonight.”  His voice is so sweet, so proud, that a quiet laugh shakes through Harry’s chest and he smiles, meeting Eggsy’s gaze and biting his lip.

Slowly, the shocks of pleasure die down.

“God, I want to come on your face right now.  Wipe that smirk righ’ off.”

Harry shakes his head.  “Wouldn’t work and you know it.”

“S’why I love you.”  Eggsy winks before he pulls back far enough that Harry can no longer reach him, no longer flick his tongue out to taste and he whines for the loss.

But then Eggsy’s features become serious once more, the light not gone from his eyes but his smile changing to something more fierce.  “Get up.”

There’s no room for teasing or arguing with the commanding tone, the tenor of Eggsy’s voice coursing through Harry’s body making his head swim and his cock throb.  He pulls himself up slowly, swaying a little once he’s on his feet but is held steady by Eggsy wrapping his arms around him, leaving bite marks on his neck and shoulders that will flourish and bloom for days while he undoes the clasp between Harry’s wrists.

Harry’s legs are shaking, from the warmth of Eggsy’s body and from the sting of his teeth.  Eggsy toys with Harry’s earlobe before saying, “Lay on the bed, Harry.”  He can’t hold back the quiet moan when Eggsy doesn’t stop working his mouth along his neck, his arms coming up to hover over Eggsy’s arms, desperate to take hold of him.

“I can’t go anywhere,” Harry gasps as Eggsy bites down again. “If you don’t release me.”

Quiet laughter escapes Eggsy’s lips against Harry’s skin and continues while they move, Eggsy gently guiding Harry to exactly where he wants him, splayed out across their bed, arms stretched high over his head and hands tucked between the pillows and headboard.  Eggsy straddles him again, leaning forward to hold his wrists down while he kisses Harry senseless, rocking his hips back so that Harry’s cock slips surprisingly easily along the cleft of his arse.

With a smirk and a shaken gasp, Harry lifts his hips into the contact, seeking more.  

“I want to tell you to have patience, but god, I’m so desperate to finally feel you, Harry.”  Eggsy mumbles into their kiss, fumbling for the bottle he’s had on the bed from earlier.

Working painfully slow, Eggsy finally wraps a hand around Harry, slicking him up.  The touch is such a relief Harry’s eyes flutter closed and for a moment all he can do is raise his hips into the newfound pressure.  When he opens his eyes again, Eggsy is watching him, and makes Harry fall still with a single look.

The moment he breaches Eggsy’s body, Harry begins to shake from head to toe.  He is entranced by the soft whines escaping Eggsy’s gently parted lips, by the flush and thin sheen of sweat covering his lovers’ body that glistens in the flicker of candle light.  Eggsy is tight.  Loose enough that Harry can tell he’d prepared himself ahead of time, but nowhere near the extent Harry would have.  Every inch he takes Harry into his body, opens up for him, pulls Harry back into the suspended state he loves, he’s craved.

When he reaches for Eggsy, gets his hands close enough to almost grasp at his hips, a single, commanding “Don’t,” not only stills his hands but sends something blissful through his psyche.  Instead of grabbing Eggsy, Harry fists his hands into the sheets at their sides.

For his obedience, Eggsy rewards Harry with another shock of vibrations.  At this angle it sends such a potent surge of pleasure through his body that it makes him shout, making his hips buck up in a snap that slams himself the rest of the way into the tight, slick heat of Eggsy’s body.  Eggsy meets Harry’s hips in a string of curses, head thrown back with his long neck exposed and the curve of his body a sharp slope down to where they come together.

“Fuck, Harry.  Your cock is so thick.” He starts to move, slow, shallow rolls of his hips at first.  “Never stretched enough for you.”  At his words Harry keens, lets them wash over him and take him away.  Eggsy keeps talking as he picks up his pace, picks himself up higher each time and fucks himself harder on Harry’s cock.  Eggsy’s voice, the adoration and praise in his tone, wraps around Harry almost as tight as his body until his need for release is a raging fire, the only thing he can focus on, the only thing he feels.

Eggsy is everywhere, inside and out.  Around his body and under his skin.

Harry has nothing left to hold onto, nothing left to hold him back.  The tension in his body, in his legs and arms, chest and toes, is secondary.  His impending orgasm pouring through him not as potent as the euphoria of letting go of literally everything, all he has and is.

The toy keeping him blissfully full intensifies, sending shock after shock against his prostate, pulling him back just enough, just enough to register the loud shouts of Eggsy’s pleasure, the hot streaks that coat his stomach and chest, and the clutch of Eggsy’s arse around his cock.

Above him Eggsy – even in his release – says such beautiful words, tells Harry how beautiful he is, how good.  Tells harry to come.

And Harry obeys.

His release flashes through his body, the taut cord of tension sliced through in one smooth roll of Eggsy’s hips.  Wave after wave of mind-numbing ecstasy courses through him and he holds on despite being told not to.  Because all that matters is feeling everything he can, clinging to the man he loves, to hold him close.

Harry makes a noise, not sure if it’s a whine or some kind of begging, but Eggsy understands – he always understands – and cuts off the vibrations that are sending tremors through his oversensitive body.

For a long time Harry’s world is nothing except the white haze of endorphins.  He feels feather-light, a tingle over every last bit of his skin.  There are small points of pressure being pressed to his chest, then his shoulders, each one pushing through further every time – pulling him back to ground – until he finally recognizes the tenderness of Eggsy’s kisses.  He draws his hand up the thick lines of Eggsy’s body, along his back, to settle in his hair.

They kiss, a lazy and slow meld of lips and tongues, Harry drowning in the taste of him.

“Fuck, but you are amazin’ Harry.”  Eggsy murmurs into the kiss.

“I apologize.  Harry Hart is not in right now.”  Eggsy buries his head in Harry’s neck and starts laughing, the shake of his body felt not just against Harry’s chest, but everywhere they are still connected.  Harry lets out a satisfied moan and begins to stretch.  “But if you will kindly leave a message after the sigh, he will get back to you just as soon as he possibly can.”

Even as he continues to laugh, Eggsy groans.  “Christ, Harry.  You are horrible.”

“Yes.  I know.  It’s why you love me.”

“Hmm.”  Eggsy picks his head up so he can smile down at Harry.  “One of the reasons.  There’s at least…” He shrugs and makes a face.  “At least two or three others, I’m sure.”

Harry laughs with him then, stretching out his body again in such a way that he finally slips slowly out, disconnecting their bodies which has Eggsy whining,  “Oh, fuck.”  He kisses Harry again, then groans into the kiss.  “Already miss your cock.”  For a short while they kiss, hold and stroke each other until Eggsy finally pulls himself away, reluctantly crawling off the bed.

“Don’t move, love.”

“Puddles don’t have legs.”  Harry assures him.

When he returns, Eggsy has a bowl of warm water and two flannels and begins carefully and thoroughly cleaning Harry.  He is careful and tender, his touch a continuation of the attentions he’s been showing Harry all night.  While he removes the plug, Eggsy distracts Harry with deep and searching kisses which Harry is immeasurably grateful for, more to keep his mind focused away from the loss than anything else.

With everything Eggsy does, every way he touches him, Harry floats along a little longer.

Before he knows it the cloths are gone, the extra sheet tossed off the side of the bed and a warm blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he sits, breathing carefully at the center of the bed.

Everything Eggsy does brings Harry a little further back to himself until he and Eggsy are face to face, Eggsy sitting between Harry’s legs, his own wrapped around Harry’s hips, cuddled together under the blanket with a steaming mug of tea between them.

Harry takes a deep breath, lets the sweet scent and steam fill his lungs and keep the warmth going.

“How are you feeling?”  Eggsy is watching him carefully, never letting his hands stray far from Harry’s skin--constant, grounding contact.

He’s feeling relaxed, worn out in the best way, loved, cherished, cared for.   “Better, thank you.”  Harry leans over his mug and presses a chaste and lingering kiss to Eggsy’s lips.

Later, when the tea is gone and the candles snuffed out, with Eggsy holding him close, curled up against his back with a possessive, protective arm around Harry’s chest, Harry finally closes his eyes to rest.

In the morning, bit by bit, the noises will return.

But for now, the only sound in the universe is that of the man he loves breathing quietly behind him, lulling Harry into sleep.

 


End file.
